Tree Top Candles
by Fulinn28
Summary: what would happen to Jacks cabin if a forest fire threatened it


Title: Tree top candles

Author: Fulinn28

E-mail: fulinn28@ficwithfins.com

Website: www.ficwithfins.com (all of my stories can be found here)

Rating: G

Archive:  Jackfic yes, Fanfiction.net yes, and Gateworld.net yes, all others please ask.

Pairings: None

Category: Angst

Season: none

Content Warnings: None

Summary: Jack's refuge comes under attack      

Spoilers: "Solitudes", "Children of the Gods" and "Learning Curve"

Status: completed

Sequel / Series:  A challenge by jmhaxby@netzero.net on the SamandJack list 01/01/04

                         "…what would happen to Jacks cabin if a forest fire threatened it…"

Size: 80k

Disclaimer: "All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author."

Copyright: (c) 2004 bonnie rose

Authors Notes: All feedback and suggestions welcome and will be answered.  My muse has many more stories in store for us.  Thank you to Su Freund, the best beta I could ask for, this story is so much better for her efforts and suggestions.  All remaining errors are mine and mine alone.

Tree Top Canles 

I drive along Rt. 59 on the last leg of my journey to the cabin, driving on automatic pilot as my mind drifted back over the past few months. 

**

Sometimes, ok often if you want the truth, I wonder how we all survive our chosen jobs.  True we'd all come back alive from this latest mission, but not for lack of trying on the part of the natives on PX5-2425, a world that on first glace seemed to be pristine and untouched. Later it proved to support a very angry native population, not open to contact with the outside world.  We beat a hasty retreat back to the Stargate.

Once safely home, my team and I cleared our medical exams and debriefed the General on the findings of PX5 yadda yadda yadda. Basically a bust; the best thing I can say for that little trip was we had all gotten out with our skins intact.  General Hammond dismissed us, granting us twenty four hours of downtime, basically a day off.

I arrived home, collected my mail and headed straight for the refrigerator for a cold one.

Settling down in my favorite recliner, I flipped on CNN to catch up with the happenings on my world.  The lead story was the wild fires currently burning in Northern Minnesota. I quickly looked up turning the volume up on the TV.  The anchor man explained that the many smaller fires burning in Minnesota looked to be fairly well contained with the exception of the one burning near the town of Vergas.  This really caught my attention as the town of Vergas is the closest town to my cabin on Lake Rose.  The news on that fire was bad, the fire and growing worse as more and more fire crews were being called in.

Knowing that I had a few days of leave coming to me, I gave the General a quick call at home asking for leave.  I figured that ten days would be plenty; I wanted to get up to the cabin to do what I could to protect it.

My CO, General Hammond is a good man, a man of compassion and understanding.  After explaining to him what was going on in Minnesota he granted me my leave request.  The following day I caught a hop from Peterson to Minn.-St. Paul airport, picked up a rental truck and was on the road as quickly as possible. As I drove my mind drifted back in time to the first time I saw the cabin.

******

As a child I grew up in Chicago, spending my youth avoiding the roving groups of kids that frequented my neighborhood.  My mom enjoyed the hustle and bustle of big city life, leaving me on my own for hours on end, my father having long since abandoned us.

Then one dreary day my mother got a letter from my grandparents in Minnesota begging her once again to give up the city life and come home, to live with them.  For reasons I never understood she listened this time.  She packed me up, boarded a bus with last few cents she had, and headed home, to Lake Rose, Minnesota and a little cabin by the lake.

I was ten years old the year we arrived to live with her mom and dad, wide eyed at all the open spaces and trees!  There were trees everywhere I looked.  Soon my granddad had me out working with him, helping to split and stack firewood for his business. We spent hours delivering the wood to the various homes in the area, laying in stockpiles for the cold Minnesota winters. He spent hours teaching me the value of hard work and discipline.  

Unfortunately my mom did not appreciate the quite simple life my grandparents lived and shortly after my eleventh birthday she left me behind, heading back to the city she loved more than me.  I cried for days after she left, my grandparents trying to console me for the loss of my mothers love.  Eventually I put on a brave face and joined my grandparents in their lives and as time pastd, the hurt of abandonment faded but was never forgotten. 

**

I was anxious to arrive at the cabin that had proved to be my sanctuary in my rather stormy life. It was here I came to try and recover from my imprisonment in Iraq, then Charlie's death, and later from my divorce; all the horrors of my life.  Occasionally I invited my team to join me hoping to share the feeling of peace and safety that I could always find in the Minnesota woodlands. Alas, they had other ideas on what brought them comfort and so rarely accepted my invitations.

I turned off Rt. 59 on to an unmarked dirt road, noting all of the smoke in the air.  Great columns of it drifted from the fires burning west of the cabin and my lake, but luckily still many miles from my home.  I came to a stop in front of the gate blocking the road from the trespassers. Quickly I unlocked the gate pushing it aside to allow me to drive the last hundred yards to the cabin.

I looked fondly at the log cabin house, where it sat on a gently sloping lawn overlooking the lake.  Automatically I noted that the dock was in good shape, the small row boat still turned upside down on the lawn where it met the lakes edge.  I backed the truck into the small parking area in front of the porch.  Taking the steps two at a time, I bounded onto the porch, coming to a stop in front of the door.  Unlocking the front door I let myself into the large open living room, dropping my bag on the floor.  Moving through the house I began opening all of the windows facing the lake, allowing some fresh air into the stale house.

Stepping out the back door, I headed over to the small shed that housed the gasoline power generator, cranking it up and getting the power running.  I had saved all of the old style lanterns and such, but preferred a few modern conveniences like hot water and cold beer.  As I stood on the back porch I could see the smoke to the west, small specks of ash floated by on the breeze.

Quickly I walked around the house, checking for any damage since the last time I had been here.  Finding none, I arrived at my truck pulling down the tail gate and swiftly beginning  to unload the supplies I had brought with me. 

While no expert in fighting fires I did have a passing knowledge of the destruction that fires can bring. Fires can be so useful to us at times. I often spent evenings with my team gathered around a campfire, keeping warm, enjoying hot coffee and the light it provided on a dark alien planet.  On the other hand, fires can be utterly destructive destroying beyond repair anything in its path; buildings, cars and people.

I set the chain saw down at my feet, leaving the ten gallon containers of gasoline in the bed of my truck for now.  Next I pulled out the submersible pump.  I was close enough to the lake that with the extra hose I'd brought with me, I would be able to wet down my cabin in the hopes of keeping it safe.  Knowing that it might not be enough I had brought sturdy packing boxes with m, planning to spend the night packing as many of my belongings as I could.  First thing in the morning, if things looked bad, I'd pack up my truck, move it down the dirt road to the gate, and hike back to the cabin, secure in the knowledge that the items and memories they bought back to me would be safe.  My heart beat faster at the thought of the loss of my childhood home, but I knew that I could and would rebuild if necessary.

Darkness began to fall early as I looked repeatedly towards the west, the swirls of smoke becaming more pronounced as they drew closer. The radio on the porch provided an hourly update on the location of the fire.  The announcer was urging people to gather their families together and take shelter in the towns that have opened up their schools for emergency shelters.  The speaker was reminding people that no pets were allowed in the shelters and to be sure to leave adequate food and water for any pets left behind. I shook my head, thinking if I had a pet I could never leave it behind. If it was too dangerous for me then it was too dangerous for him. I'd sure as hell take him with me!

Finishing packing at last, I straightened up, my back creaking and stiff from the bending and lifting I'd been doing.  The air around the cabin was now swirling with smoke.  Even in the deep dark of night the billowing gray clouds of smoke could be seen.  I looked around my cabin feeling distinctly teary eyed as I surveyed my home stripped bare of all the trappings that make these barren walls into a safe secure home.  Not wanting to wait for daylight, I began shuffling boxes out the front door and into my truck bed.

As dawn broke, I sat on the front steps sipping my coffee.  Hearing a vehicle coming down the road I stood up and walked down to meet my visitors, wondering who would be foolish enough to be out this early in the morning.  As I reached the end of my truck, I saw the marked cruiser of the Minnesota State Patrol coming to a stop in my driveway and  walked up to the cruiser window to see what he wanted.

"Officer, what can I do for you?" I inquired politely.

He looked me over, eyeing my truck filled with boxes parked at the foot of the stairs.

"You the owner?" the officer asked me, his eyes filled with suspicion.

"Yes, I am. Jack O'Neill." I informed him quietly, meeting his glare.

"Have any ID on you? We've had some trouble with looters in the area."  His attitude making more sense now, I thought.

"Sure," I said pulling out my wallet and registration form from the front seat of my truck. "I just got here yesterday." I added as I handed him the information along with a fishing license from the town as a form of proof of residency.

The officer looked over the documents before handing them back to me. "The fire is coming." he sighed "They think it'll reach this area in about three hours. Make sure you leave yourself enough time to evacuate, ok?  I don't want to have come looking for your body later."

I nodded in agreement indicating the packed truck. "Not a problem, officer I'm just getting ready to move the truck down to the gate.  If things get too bad I'll head out." I assured him.

He nodded once before turning his cruiser around and heading out.  I followed shortly after that with my truck. Parking and locking it just after the gate.  A short hike brought me back to the house and, double checking that all of my precautions are ready, I waited for the fight to begin.

I had a medical mask, flinched from the infirmary, covering my nose and mouth to prevent the inhalation of ash.  Tight fitting shooters glasses protected my eyes and finally sturdy gloves protected the most vulnerable parts of my hands and arms.

The smoke was suffocating in its thickness and I was already starting to gasp for breath.  A breeze blew across the clearing, wafting the smoke away and revealing a little log cabin surrounded by trees. An eerie crackling could be heard in the surrounding forest. Occasionally a woodland creature came out of the forest running in a head long flight for safety. 

A tremendous crack sounded in the clearing as a tall pine caught fire, its crown flaring like a treetop candle.  The top half of the flaming pine toppled over, falling into the surrounding trees, catching them aflame as well.  Quickly I turned on the pump beginning to pour a steady stream of water over the roof of my cabin.  The roar of the fire continued creeping closer and closer to where I was making my last stand, my heart beating faster and faster as I continued to labor for each breath I took.  Trees continued to flare up and burn, eventually falling to the ground.  Finally to my great sorrow, one of the tall trees that surrounded my home collapsed onto the roof, setting it ablaze.  I poured water onto the roof, but soon acknowledged that I had done all that I could. 

With tears running down my face, I turned the pump off and dragged it along with all of the hose into the water, dropping them into the deepest water that I could reach.  Turning for one last look, I saw that the roof and one side of the cabin fully engulfed in flames.  The orange and yellow light reflected off the wall of smoke that rolled into the clearing. As the smoke swirled and eddied with the winds I caught the last glimpse of my cabin that I would ever see.

I turned away, brushing the tears from my eyes and began to jog down the dirt driveway towards my truck, thankful that I had packed all of my belongings last night.  As I neared the truck, heaving and gasping for breath, I turned and took one last look at the tree tops behind me as the fire raced and leaped from tree top to tree top. 

I jumped into my truck and pulled out on to the black topped road.  Turning to the right towards the town of Vergas, I rolled along ahead of the fire, seeing the occasional forestry trucks or fire engine heading towards town filled with weary fire crews.  

A flash of movement brought me to a slow rolling stop as I gazed out into the forest. I pulled to the side of the road, stepping out of the truck I called out.

"Hey, is anybody there?"  I didn't really expect any response and all I could hear was the fire snapping and crackling behind me.

"Come on don't play games.  If you need help I'll give you a ride."  I paused to see if anything would happen, when I caught the movement again just on the edge of the forest.

Scooting down I called out "come here boy I won't hurt you." I stretched my hand out as far as I could to encourage the dog to come to me. "What happened pup? Someone just dump you out here?  Leave you to fend for yourself?  I won't hurt you, ya know.  I'm a dog man, really I am."  Slowly his head hanging down, his tail swinging back in forth he crept towards me.  His head bowed down before me, his long pink tongue reached out to lick my hand, and he whimpered softly.  Gently I reached towards him, stroking his back, convincing him that dogs really were my favorite people.

"Come on pup, in the truck we got things to do!"  My new friend willingly followed me into the pickup truck sitting up on the passenger side, large as life.  I shook my head in disgust that anyone could leave their pets on the roadside.

The town of Vergas was overrun with refugees from the fire.  I noted that the High School was open and ambulances were parked in the driveway.  I glanced at my new found dog and than at the shelter and remembered the radio ad stating that pets were not allowed into any public shelters. 

"Well, I guess we find a not so public shelter, huh boy?"  I asked pup from where he sat beside me.

I continued to drive for another thirty minutes before turning off the highway, into the little town of Bushnell. Turning onto a little dirt road I stopped in front of a cabin that looked much like mine had.  The door opened immediately as my boyhood friend Doug Taylor stepped out to greet me.  Pup waited politely in the driver's seat for the ok to jump down.

The three of us walked up to the cabin as we discussed the fire. We sat on the porch for the rest of the day watching the TV or listening on the radio as the fire was finally brought under control.

Finally, three days later, pup and I drove up the dirt road leading to my cabin. As I pulled into the clearing I stood in amazement, charred and smoke stained my cabin stood in the clearing.  The roof was blackened as were the walls, but they still stood straight and tall. Hurt but not broken just like me.  Through the tears in my eyes I walked up on to the porch, pup at my heels.  I pulled the rocking chair away from the wall and sat down to rest.  My mind drifted over the times that it had looked like all was lost, only to find that although battered and cracked, the core frame was still strong and able to be mended.

My hand drifted down to stroke pups head, acknowledging that from the ashes something good had come.

end


End file.
